


work this body

by sepulchreofsongs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, I'm Sorry, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:04:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7172885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepulchreofsongs/pseuds/sepulchreofsongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Tooru has noticed Kuroo Tetsuro in his classes.  So when he sees him at a bar, he decides he has to make his move.</p>
<p>This is straight up porn like zero plot this is all fucking filth and I wish I was more ashamed.  This is so self-indulgent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	work this body

“You’re in some of my classes, aren’t you?” The boy slurs, exacerbated by how loud he has to speak over the club’s noise.

“Yep, and you’re annoying in every single one of them,” Kuroo’s leering a little at the drunk boy as he takes a sip of his own drink.

The boy- a man, really- pouts, sticking out his lower lip, pink and supple.  Kuroo’s eyes are drawn to it, and he thinks mildly that he’d like to bite that lip, but he’s not sure how much of that thought is the whiskey.  Even intoxicated, Kuroo knows the boy is beautiful, knows from staring at him during aforementioned classes.

“So mean!” The pout dissolves into a laugh.  “I’m Oikawa.  Tooru.”

“Kuroo Tetsuro,” he grins.  Oikawa is grinning too, and in the intimate and crowded setting they’re standing closer to each other than people would casually.

“Hm, Tetsu-chan.” Oikawa tests out a nickname on his tongue and it makes a heat pool inside Kuroo.

There’s a silence between them for a moment, but it’s not quiet, as they eye each other, challenging.  Kuroo doesn’t think eyes as milky as Oikawa’s should look so sharp, and Oikawa is surprised by the lazy confidence he finds in Kuroo’s eyes.  It’s a split second before Oikawa tips his head back and laughs and Kuroo raises an eyebrow in amusement.

“You‘re interesting.” Oikawa presses closer to him.  “I thought you were just hot, but you might actually be interesting.”

Kuroo placed a hand softly on Oikawa’s hip.  “You’re calling me hot when you’re got that pretty Farrah Fawcet hair?”

“Mean and rude!” Oikawa giggles, moving a hand to touch lightly at Kuroo’s hair.  “You’re going to tease me when you have this sorry mess going on?”

“You very obviously chose that hair,” Kuroo points out.  “I’m just kind of stuck with this.”

“Hm.” Oikawa hums, running his hand through the dark strands before murmuring, “It’s nice in a kind of weird way.”

Kuroo lightly chuckles.  “Should I take that as a compliment?”

Oikawa looks him in the eye and grins blindingly.  “I think you should.  Want to dance?”

Kuroo’s tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth for a moment.  This is when he’d normally say he doesn’t dance.  But he feels the sharp hip bone under his hand and decides he wants more of that.  He lets out a long, shuddering breath and shifts his weight on the sticky floor with his eyes closed.  When he opens them, Oikawa is looking at him curiously, expectantly, an eyebrow cocked teasingly.

“Fine.”  Before Oikawa can immediately drag him to the dancefloor, though, Kuroo squeezes his hip.  “But first I need a shot.”

“Aw, a nervous dancer?” Oikawa laughs as Kuroo orders a shot of Jamison. 

“More like I’ll need the alcohol to deal with your abysmal dancing.” 

“As though my dancing is anything other than perfect.” Oikawa licks his lips and looks Kuroo up and down.  “Don’t deny that you’ll love it.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes as he downs his shot.  “So confident, so obnoxious.”

As soon as Kuroo’s glass hits the counter, Oikawa snatches his hand and pulls him along.  Kuroo grins after him, feeling the alcohol settle deep into his bones. 

When they’re amongst everyone on the dancefloor, Oikawa starts to move his hips, arms low at first but then moving up above his head, stretching his body and exaggerating his movements.  He looks up at Kuroo through long lashes, the milk of his eyes melting into something rawer.  He moves closer to Kuroo, who responds by putting his hands on swaying hips. 

Oikawa swirls around, grinding his ass against Kuroo.  He has to bite back a gasp, recovering quickly to dance subtly against Oikawa.  He feels Oikawa hum a little, pleased.

Kuroo runs his fingers lightly up Oikawa’s side before settling them at his hips again.  He leans forward, his lips tickling the edge of Oikawa’s ear.

“You’re right, you are good at this,” he murmurs lowly.

Oikawa responds by turning around, not losing any closeness, the fronts of their pants rubbing against each other as they dance.  He puts his hands on Kuroo’s shoulder and the side of his neck.

“I told you.” His smile is taunting, his gaze hot and half lidded.

Every word Kuroo has ever thought about saying is stuck to the flat of his tongue.  Oikawa’s beautiful, he thinks, noticing how wide his grin reaches, how a little dimple dots the corner of his mouth, how his lips have a dusting of light freckles on them.  He moves his hand to the soft flesh of Oikawa’s cheek, running his thumb along the cheekbone.  He inhales sharply, mind buzzing a little from the combination of alcohol and intimacy.  His mouth is hanging open and he realizes all at once that Oikawa’s mouth is open too, grin gone.  Kuroo thinks maybe he misinterpreted and should move away, but before he can even finish the thought, Oikawa’s lips are crushing against his, tilting up, trying to find the best angle.

Kuroo only pauses a moment before responding, gripping Oikawa’s waist tightly.  Oikawa’s hand at Kuroo’s neck has become tangled in his hair, tugging him closer.  They’re not dancing to any audible song anymore, but to their own bodies.  Their kisses are intense, desperate, and tongue becomes quickly involved.  Oikawa whimpers when Kuroo runs the tip of his tongue along his teeth, and Kuroo groans when Oikawa bites on his lip. 

They realize quickly that they’re evenly matched, noise for noise, breath for breath, each of their movements building off the others’.  It’s not a matter of one keeping up with the other, but a rather natural development.  They’re so intoxicated by each other that they forget where they are until they hear a rather loud “get a fucking room, bro!” that Kuroo has to assume is Bokuto from wherever he’s dancing.

They part, panting lightly, unable to tear their eyes from each other.  Oikawa laughs.  Kuroo leans forward, pressing their foreheads together before giving a chuckle himself.  Oikawa kisses him chastely and moves to his ear.

“You _are_ interesting,” his fingers flutter to Kuroo’s hip, prying under his shirt to touch the defined bone there.  “Wanna move this party somewhere else, Tetsu-chan?”

Kuroo can’t agree fast enough, bidding Bokuto goodbye, who seems to be having luck dancing with a pretty dark-haired boy.  Oikawa calls them an Uber and pulls Kuroo away when it gets close.  They try to be polite for the first minute of the drive, but anticipation gets the better of them.  By the end of the ride Oikawa is pressing hard, open mouthed kisses with teeth against Kuroo’s neck as Kuroo palms the front of his pants.  They’re not really subtle and Oikawa is sure his Uber customer rating is going to plummet for this.

They get out of the car with mumbled apologies and hurriedly enter Oikawa’s apartment building.  The elevator ride is too short- Oikawa’s pressed against the wall, Kuroo moving his hips against him.  Oikawa gives a heavy exhale, nails digging into Kuroo’s shoulder blades.

The two hesitate to part when the elevator opens on Oikawa’s floor.  They walk fast, and when Oikawa fumbles with the lock Kuroo is gripping his ass.  When they stumble into the apartment, there’s a guy sitting on the couch, reading by lamplight.  He looks up from the noise of the door, eyebrow raised for a moment.  When he sees Kuroo he rolls his eyes and goes back to his book.  Kuroo wonders if he should mind, but Oikawa doesn’t seem bothered, grabbing Kuroo’s hand and dragging him through the apartment, much like he had to the dancefloor.

“Hi, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa sings to the man on the couch, and Kuroo thinks he can just make out the man- Iwa-chan- grumbling something along the lines of “fuckin’ Shittykawa.”

Kuroo doesn’t have time to really think about that though, because Oikawa’s already shutting the door behind him in a dimly lit room, with twinkling string lights shaped like planets and stars.  Oikawa presses against him gently, and Kuroo reaches, softly running his fingers along Oikawa’s jaw.  Oikawa leans into the touch, a shaky breath leaving his lips.  Kuroo leans in and kisses Oikawa, but this kiss isn’t feverish, desperate and shallow like the others.  It’s deep and hot, almost like a slow boiling, curling inside their bodies.  Oikawa puts his hands on his waist and they kiss like that for a minute, patient.

They decide they’ve had enough of patience at the same time and Oikawa begins to unbutton Kuroo’s shirt.  The mood shifts dangerously, and Kuroo's breath hitches as Oikawa's fingertips touch the skin where his shirt is open. Kuroo easily shrugs off his shirt and tugs at the hem of Oikawa's own stretchy tank top, kissing him furiously, biting at his lip with increased teasing. He feels Oikawa smile under lips and teeth, and he pulls away a moment later to pull his shirt up over his head.

Free of their shirts and with a small bit of space between them, they take in each other's chests. Oikawa looks at the shoulders only slightly broader than his and impossibly well-defined abs and hips. Kuroo can't help but lick his lip looking at Oikawa's slightly more lithe form. Even though he's thinner, Kuroo knows it would be a mistake to think Oikawa isn't strong. There are muscles corded through his arms and chest, and Kuroo knows from the rumor mill and videos that those muscles are capable of serves so strong they look like spikes.  

Oikawa is running his fingers along Kuroo's hips, the sharp and dangerous 'v' that disappears into his jeans. Kuroo almost sighs into the touch, and they're back at it again, hands and lips hungry. Kuroo moves from Oikawa's lips after a moment, making his way to his jaw and peppering the area with kisses and bites, down his neck, until he reaches Oikawa's collarbone. He sucks there, pressing his teeth in, and he's satisfied with the way Oikawa tosses his head back and groans. Oikawa's nails drag down Kuroo's abdomen, and Kuroo would be lying if he said that didn't make his pants unbearably tight. He hurriedly moves to Oikawa's own belt, pulling at it roughly until Oikawa pushes his hands away. Kuroo moves from his neck and looks at him, confused.

Oikawa laughs, taking off his belt himself with care. "No offense, but this is Dolce and Gabbana and I don't want it to break."

Kuroo rolls his eyes exasperatedly, but a smile is tugging at his lips. "Fine, princess." As soon as the belt is on the floor, he swoops back in, pulling down Oikawa's pants in one go and falling to his knees. Oikawa blinks at him, surprised, his mouth in a small 'oh.' Kuroo smiles up at him mischievously and looks to Oikawa's length, hard and defined in light blue briefs.  

There's a small dark spot, and Kuroo looks back to see Oikawa blushing, avoiding his gaze. Kuroo clicks his tongue, thinking that won't do, and runs his tongue along the entirety of his cock over the thin fabric. Oikawa moans, cheeks decidedly pink, his hand light on the back of Kuroo's head, not aiming to control anything, but just there for support. Oikawa is looking at him again, eyes melted and hazy, and Kuroo has to fight the urge to grin.

Kuroo continues to tease at Oikawa's cock through his briefs, sucking at different spots. Finally Oikawa groans out, " _Tetsu_ , please..." and Kuroo swears his stomach doesn't swoop at that.

He peels off Oikawa's briefs, feeling his hand tense in his hair, tugging at some of the strands. Oikawa closes his eyes in anticipation, waiting for wet heat to surround him, but there's nothing. He hears a click and suddenly there's cold against his entrance, and he nearly jumps from it. He opens his eyes and glares down at Kuroo, whose grin couldn't be any wider.

"What?" He asks innocently. "Oh, did you want to top?"

"No," Oikawa hisses, and Kuroo's finger pushes inside in response. "But you could've asked."

"Hm," Kuroo hums, "I could've, but man, look how wet you are now."

Oikawa's tip _is_ leaking profusely, and honestly, it feels so good he can't bring himself to be mad. So instead he grips Kuroo's hair harder and pulls him so his lips are almost touching Oikawa's cock. Kuroo takes the hint and takes Oikawa into his mouth, not hesitating at all. He takes his time with it, working his way down the length until he's at a comfortable point, hollowing out his cheeks to suck, moving his tongue against the hot skin. He's not ignoring the finger inside Oikawa either, pressing it down deep and letting him get used to it before moving it in and out. Oikawa groans, loud, the pressure not enough but feeling overwhelmed by Kuroo's mouth.

Kuroo pulls his finger out after a minute and Oikawa has to fight not to whimper at how overwhelmingly empty he feels. But Kuroo is back in a moment, stretching him with two fingers, and Oikawa does make a noise at that. He doesn't have time to focus on it, though.  As soon as he's used to the fingers, Kuroo starts to move them and bobs his head up and down on Oikawa's cock in time with the motion. Oikawa feels light-headed for a moment, gasping. Kuroo looks up at him, looking as smug as one can with a mouthful of cock. Oikawa can't help but huff out a small laugh, but it's cut short by Kuroo curling his fingers and lights flashing behind Oikawa's eyes, and he thinks he might collapse. 

Kuroo slides his mouth from Oikawa's cock, resting it on his cheek for a moment. "You can give me two, right? Do you want to cum for me twice, Tooru?"

He curls his fingers again on the word 'Tooru' and Oikawa cums, hard. He's not sure he's ever cum so hard in his life. He notices somewhere in the high that Kuroo's mouth is on him again, swallowing all his cum. That may have caused an extra moan.

When he blinks away the stars from his eyes, Kuroo is still there on his knees, licking his lips. The sight alone makes Oikawa feel half hard again. He pulls Kuroo up and pushes him on the bed. He felt a little weak in the knees after his orgasm, but this wasn't over yet, not by a long shot.

Kuroo's face seems to be stuck in this shitty, self-assured smile. Oikawa wants him to be flushed, moaning underneath him. So Oikawa straddles him, grinding against his crotch, still clothed for some ungodly reason. The friction of bare skin against denim makes Oikawa bite his lip, sensitive from his orgasm.  Kuroo lets out a long hiss, fighting to not buck his hips upwards.

Oikawa leans forward, kissing him in a way that’s pretty tame compared to rest of their kisses, just deep in an almost intoxicated way, like they’ll get drunker each time their lips touch.  While they kiss, he undoes Kuroo’s pants, and they part so Kuroo can pull them and his boxers off.  Oikawa settles back on his lap and takes both of their cocks into his hand, Kuroo’s looking painfully hard.  He rubs the two of them together, rubbing the pre-cum from Kuroo’s cock onto them.  Kuroo thrusts up into Oikawa’s hand, moaning, “Shit, Tooru.”  Oikawa can’t help but grin at the way he looks. 

“Tooru, if I’m not inside you in the next thirty seconds, I’m probably gonna blow my load.” Kuroo says seriously, looking at him with eyes that are lazy yet intense.

Oikawa grimaces, pretending the look in his eyes doesn’t make his cock twitch.  “Gross, Tetsu-chan.”

“Aw, a moment ago I was ‘ _Tetsu,’”_ Kuroo mimics a moan, tossing his head back exaggeratedly. 

Oikawa sticks out his tongue in response, but leans over the side of the bed, grabbing a condom from the nightstand and the bottle of lube Kuroo left on the floor.  “Where did you even get this?”

“What, you don’t carry travel-sized bottles of lube with you when you go out?” Kuroo teases, one side of his mouth quirking up. 

“You’re a gross, gross man.” Oikawa tries to hide a laugh.

“And yet my dick is about to go up your ass.” To make his point, Kuroo’s hips lift, rubbing his length against Oikawa.

Oikawa bites back a moan, instead looks at Kuroo with a raised brow.  “Is it now?”

“I mean that’s up to you.” Kuroo shrugs, looking Oikawa up and down.  He’s leaning back on his forearms, and Oikawa leans in, kissing him the same way they did when they’d first entered the room.  They aren’t quite as patient this time, both of their cocks hard and straining now.  Oikawa slides the condom onto Kuroo, and pours lube onto his hand, wetting his cock with it and Kuroo lets out a long sigh.  He starts to move as though to sit up or change their positions, but Oikawa presses on his chest with the hand that isn’t lubricating him. 

“Like this.” Oikawa says, and Kuroo looks surprised, but he just nods.  Oikawa lines them up, and starts to lower himself down onto Kuroo’s cock.  Oikawa hisses as the head starts to push through, and Kuroo steadies him, putting his hands on Oikawa’s hips. 

“Take your time,” Kuroo murmurs, stroking Oikawa’s hip bone.  “Don’t hurt yourself.”  


Oikawa wants to retort that he’s fine, he won’t hurt himself.  But he feels vulnerable like this, with Kuroo.  He nods, biting on his lip a little, and takes a moment.  He feels himself relaxing, stretching to accommodate the thickness, because if he’s being honest, Kuroo’s cock is nothing to scoff at in size.  He starts to lower himself again, and Kuroo’s grip tightens just a slight bit.  They’re both breathless by the time Oikawa has him fully sheathed, and Kuroo leans so their foreheads are touching.  He’s astounded- Oikawa is so tight it’s almost dizzying, he feels like the galaxy is laid out in front of him.  Oikawa feels, for lack of a better word, complete.  The way he’s filled up is satisfying in a way he can’t really explain, only feel.

Oikawa kisses him softly, almost tenderly.  “I’m going to move now.”

Kuroo nods, and then they’re both moaning as Oikawa starts to move himself on Kuroo’s cock.  He works himself up to a rhythm, and Kuroo watches him for a moment, completely entranced by how simply good Oikawa looks riding him.  Then he starts to move his hips to match Oikawa’s, and a new round of moans ensues. 

Kuroo’s nails are digging into Oikawa’s hips, and Oikawa grips at Kuroo’s shoulders, scratching down them.  Kuroo thrusts just right, hitting Oikawa’s prostate, and Oikawa whimpers.  “Tetsu, Tetsu. I’m- I’m gonna cum.  Tetsu-“

“Shh,” Kuroo kisses him, feeling himself swell, “Me too, Tooru.”

Kuroo moves one hand to Oikawa’s cock, pumping it until Oikawa finishes with a moan that almost seems like a yell, cumming onto his stomach.  Oikawa is practically seeing stars not unlike the ones on his string lights as Kuroo takes his hips back and thrusts into him erratically.  He groans, guttural, from his own orgasm, and stills after a moment, laying back onto the bed. 

Oikawa lifts himself gingerly off him, lying down next to Kuroo.  Before he can get comfortable, though, Kuroo stands up, tying off the condom.  Oikawa motions wordlessly to a waste bin and Kuroo tosses it with surprising accuracy, and then he’s cuddling up next to Oikawa again.  Despite being horribly lanky, Oikawa curls himself against Kuroo, resting his head against his chest. 

As they fall asleep, Kuroo has the fleeting thought that he hopes that there’s more nights like this, and even more than that.  He didn’t notice Tooru in class just because he was pretty, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> why did this end up 3.3K. 
> 
> yell at me at @persephonali on twitter and pugsephone on tumblr


End file.
